


But It's Better If You Do

by LittleShinikami



Series: Louder Than Words [4]
Category: Call of Duty, Modern Warfare 2
Genre: Angst, Best Friends, Drunkenness, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-02-25
Packaged: 2017-12-03 13:57:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleShinikami/pseuds/LittleShinikami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Toad receives an upsetting phone call and he decides to forget about it by drowning himself in alcohol. Unfortunately, Archer is too good of a friend to let him do that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But It's Better If You Do

_Now I'm of consenting age to be forgetting you in a cabaret._  
Somewhere downtown where a burlesque queen may even ask my name  
As she sheds her skin on stage  
I'm seated and sweating to a dance song on the club's P.A.  
The strip joint veteran sits two away  
Smirking between dignified sips of his dignified peach and lime daiquiri  
And isn't this exactly where you'd like me  
I'm exactly where you'd like me, you know  
Praying for love in a lap dance and paying in naivety  
But, I'm afraid that I  
Well, I may have faked it  
And I wouldn't be caught dead in this place 

_~ "But It's Better If You Do" by Panic! at the Disco ~_

Chris "Toad" Williams downed his shot of cheap whiskey, enjoying the way it burned on the way down. He looked back at the stage he found himself in front of, watching the stripper make a show of taking off her bra. She licked her lips and sent him a lusty look. Chris smirked at her, but he was sure it didn't reach his eyes. He quickly downed another shot of whiskey that had appeared at his elbow, hoping he could get drunk enough to forget everything; including the fact that he didn't really want to be here.

Toad looked around the cheap and dirty strip joint he found himself in. It was gaudy and tacky and not a place Chris normally would have ever set foot in on his own, but nothing about this situation was normal. Meat had found him trying to drink himself into oblivion in the mess hall and had decided that Toad needed to do that out on the town, in a strip club no less. Chris had gone along with it, because hell, he needed cheap whiskey and if he could get his rocks off at the same, even better.

A busty brunette, wearing very revealing clothing, approached him, offering him a lap dance. Chris was having trouble forming coherent thoughts with all the alcohol in his system. And really the only thing he could think was how fake she looked and how could Meat even stand these girls? But he found himself agreeing anyway. He slipped her some money as she slid into his lap and began to move. He placed his hands on her hips and felt himself becoming aroused. But even through the alcohol he knew it was only alcohol fueled lust and somewhere deep down he didn't really want to be here.

He looked over at Meat sitting at the table next to his and noticed Meat was watching him. He felt sweat bead on his forehead from suddenly being nervous about being watched. But Meat just sat there, a smug smirk on his face, sipping at his own drink. Toad realized that Meat did this far too often.

"Chris!"

Toad froze at the sound of his name being barked like that. He turned his head to see Archer stalking towards him, a frown on his face, his jaw clenched and Toad knew exactly what was coming. The girl in his lap had frozen as well and was looking between him and Archer.

"Chris, what the hell are you doing?" asked Archer sharply when he was finally standing in front of Toad.

Chris grinned up at him. "What does it look I'm doing?" he said, slipping his arm around the girl in his lap, his voice slurring. "I'm getting drunk and enjoying the company of these lovely ladies."

The girl in his lap smirked and Archer scowled at him. A tiny part of Toad was hoping that Archer would see past the façade and bullshit and take him home.

Archer turned his attention to the girl. "Leave," he growled.

The girl nervously looked at Toad, he just shrugged, and so she got up and left them. Archer roughly grabbed Chris's arm and hauled him to his feet. Chris pointedly avoided looking at Archer, knowing he would see disappointment or anger or something he didn't want to see right now.

"Fuck off Ian," Chris said, irritation seeping into his voice. "I'm a big boy I can do what I want."

When Archer didn't respond, Toad looked up expecting him to be livid. But he was taken aback by what he saw in Archer's green eyes. His face was blank, but his eyes held a mixture of sadness and pity.

"Let's go home," Archer said quietly.

Chris wanted to simply give in and submit, but his pride wouldn't let him. He put on a look of disinterest. "Yeah, whatever." He waved his free hand dismissively. "I'm done here anyway. The drinks are shit."

Archer snorted and began dragging Chris towards the exit. He couldn't help but notice that Archer didn't let go of his arm until they were out in the parking lot. And he wondered since when did Archer start giving a damn? They stopped in front of Archer's motorcycle and Chris looked in disbelief at it and then at Ian.

"You wouldn't let me drive it sober and now you're gonna make me ride bitch, while drunk no less?" asked Toad, disbelief in his voice.

"Do you want to go home?" asked Archer calmly, one eyebrow raised.

Yes, yes he did. He sighed heavily in defeat and let his shoulders sag. "Yeah, let's go."

Archer nodded and mounted the bike. Toad followed, nearly tripping over himself, and got on behind Archer, gripping his tee-shirt.

"Ready?"

Toad snorted. "As I'll ever be."

Ian started the bike and they pulled out of the parking lot. Chris decided that, regardless of his pride and masculinity, holding onto Archer would be a good idea. He slid his arms around Ian's large torso and held on tight. He let his head rest on Ian's back, too drunk to care whether it was appropriate or awkward. Ian had come for him when Chris had expected everyone to leave him to get alcohol poisoning and right now that was all that mattered.

oOo

It was a, thankfully, uneventful drive back to base and they didn't run into anyone walking back to their room. Archer didn't say anything the whole way and Toad was too busy concentrating on not tripping over his own feet to care or talk. When they entered their room Ian guided Chris to his bed and sat him down. Chris looked up at him through blurry eyes, too drunk and tired to decipher the emotions passing through Ian's eyes.

"Stay here," Archer said softly. "I'll get you some water."

Christ watched him leave and sat there on the bed. His mind drifted back to the phone call he had gotten earlier and he decided he wasn't drunk enough to deal with it. So he got up and began rummaging through his bookshelf looking for the alcohol he kept for when he wanted to drink alone. He found the bottle of rum and sat back down on his bed. He tipped it back and drank straight from the bottle, drowning his insecurities.

Ian walked back into the room holding a rather large glass of water. When he saw Chris drinking again he frowned. He walked over to Toad, setting the glass on the small bedside table.

"Fucking hell, Chris," he growled, yanking the bottle away from him.

"What'd ya do that for?" whined Chris, blinking blearily up at Archer.

"Chemo said he saw you drinking in the mess hall earlier."

Toad raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, so?"

"Are you trying to give yourself alcohol poisoning?"

"What does it matter?" said Chris haughtily. "What do you care?"

"Bloody hell, Chris, not this again."

Chris stood up, though he swayed slightly, getting in Archer's face. He poked him in the chest. "Just because you're Mr. Virtuous doesn't mean some of us don't like to get drunk and go to places like that."

Ian snorted. "I know for a fact, mate, that normally, you wouldn't be caught dead in a place like that."

Chris shoved him forcing him back a few steps, his eyebrows raising in surprise at the outburst.

"You don't know me," Toad spat, anger sobering him up somewhat. "Why are you here Ian, huh? Don't answer that, I know why. You're here to tell me that what I'm doing is wrong, that I shouldn't be getting plastered and going to strip joints. Here to tell me I'm good for nothing." He balled his hands into fists. "You're here to be like my old man and judge me and tell me I'm nothing. I'm right where you guys want me, huh? Just waiting for me to finally be that worthless, piece of shit!"

Archer's face softened. "Is that what this is all about?"

"All what's about?" Chris snapped.

"This!" Archer gestured to the alcohol on the bedside table. "The drinking, the strip joint, faking it, praying for love in a lap dance! It's not about those things or me or even you. This is about your father, isn't it?"

Toad looked away guiltily. "It's not…"

"Bullshit!" Ian took a step closer. "That's exactly what this is about. And you're trying to cope with it in the most idiotic way."

"Shut the fuck up. I don't want to talk about it."

"That's not going to help. You can't just keep–"

He was interrupted by Chris's fist connecting with his jaw. Archer stumbled backward, a shocked, slightly hurt look on his face. He brought his hand up to cradle his jaw. Chris stood there, fists clenched, breathing heavily.

"You can't tell me what to do!" he yelled.

"You're right. I can't," Ian said quietly, straightening up and dropping his hand from his face. "But we're friends and I, you know, care. I can't just leave you like this."

Chris frowned, dropping his gaze to the floor. Ian really did care, he knew that, but he had a hard time believing it. But… Archer was practically the only one in his life that was consistently there for him when he needed him, even though Toad hadn't recognized it most of the time. Ian hadn't been very vocal about anything until recently. And, Chris realized, if Ian didn't care he wouldn't have searched him out and dragged him out of the shitty, hole in the wall strip joint.

He looked up at Archer. "How did you know where I was?"

Ian looked slightly confused at the change of topic, but he answered. "I went looking for you and Ozone said he saw you leaving base with Meat. So… since Roach's his roommate I asked him if he knew where Meat usually went when he went out."

Chris felt guilt stab him in the gut like a knife. "How many places did you check?" he asked, voice nearly cracking at the thought that Archer had actually searched for him.

"Two. Meat's favorite bar and another strip joint."

Chris looked away from Archer. He suddenly felt like throwing up. Whether it was from guilt or the alcohol or both, he didn't know, all he knew was that what Archer was saying should have made him feel better, but it only made him feel worse. Fuck, he really was stupid.

Archer approached him slowly, like he would a wounded or spooked animal, which was about what Toad was at that point.

"Look, I don't know what brought this on, but you are not worthless," Ian said, quietly but emphatically. "You're the best spotter I could ask for, you know that. And you're a damn good sniper too."

Chris sat down heavily on his bed. Emotions swirled in his chest making a confusing and potent mixture. He looked up at Archer, raw emotion in his eyes.

"But is that all I am? A killing machine?"

Ian slowly sat down next to him. "No, course not." He rubbed his hands on his jeans and Chris continued to watch him. "You're a really good friend and you're fun to be around. You're also an irritating twat sometimes." A small smile touched his lips. "But you wouldn't be you if you weren't."

Chris looked down at his hands in his lap. He could hear the fondness in Archer's voice and he didn't know what to say. It didn't help that he now had a lump in his throat, so he chose to stay quiet. Ian shifted beside him.

"You know I'm not good at this, mate," he said quietly.

"It's fine," said Chris hoarsely, unable to keep the raw emotion out of his voice.

Ian leaned forward slightly to look at Chris's face. "So you wanna talk about what happened?"

Chris swallowed heavily. "My old man called me today."

"Oh."

"Yeah, "oh" is right," said Chris wearily. And then, without warning, it was all spilling out. "I don't even know why the fuck he calls. All he wants to do is tell me how worthless I am and how much he wants to disown me." He rubbed his face with his hands, feeling mentally and emotionally drained. "Because I can't tell him anything about what we do, he thinks I'm just being a lazy bastard, even though he has a copy of the goddamned transfer papers. Ugh."

He put his head in his hands, feeling a wave of nausea hit him. He felt Ian's hand on his back, large and warm, in sympathy or comfort Chris didn't care. He just wanted to know that someone gave a damn, since his own father didn't. He laughed bitterly, breath hitching as a sob threatened to escape.

"Now look at me. I guess–"

"Don't," interrupted Archer firmly, squeezing his shoulder. "You're not worthless. No matter what he says or what you think."

Chris turned his head to look at Archer, grey-blue eyes stinging with tears that were threatening to spill. "Then why do I feel like I am?"

Ian's face softened. "Because for some reason our families have the power to define who we are." He shook his head slowly. "It doesn't matter how much you hate your father, he's still your father and that means his words will hurt more than anyone else's… But that doesn't mean his words have to define you."

Chris frowned in confusion. "But you just said…"

"I know," said Archer. "You have to realize they have that kind of power first, before you can work on not letting what they say bother you."

Archer lowered his hand from Chris's shoulder and they sat in silence for a while as Toad's foggy mind tried to absorb what Archer had said.

"How do I do that?" Chris finally said softly.

Ian hummed and shifted his gaze to the wall opposite of them. "Some ancient Greek philosophers called the Stoics said that most things in life are out of our control and that the only things that we can control are our actions and our attitudes. They said the way to be happy was to have an attitude of indifferent acceptance to everything that happens, because you can't control it, you should control your response to it." Archer looked back at Toad. "You can't control what other people think of you. You can influence how they think of you by your actions, but ultimately it's up to them to decide what they think of you. And sometimes, like with your father, it doesn't matter how much you try to please them, they still think bad of you. At that point, you have to let it go and quit caring about what they think of you."

Chris frowned, trying to parse through what Ian had said. Finally he spoke. "So I'm not worthless?"

Archer smiled at him slightly in amusement. "No, mate, you're not."

"Oh." Toad looked over at him and swallowed heavily. "And you don't think I'm worthless?"

"Never."

Chris just looked at him feeling tears sting at his eyes again. He blinked rapidly to hold them back. "That's good," was all he could think to say.

Ian smiled at him. "Yeah, it is."

They sat in silence for a while and Chris was suddenly very, very tired. Archer stood up and walked over to grab the forgotten glass of water.

"Here," he said, handing the glass to Toad. "Drink at least half of it."

Chris did as he was told; he was too emotionally exhausted to argue. He handed the glass back to Ian who set on the bedside table again.

"Drink the rest in the morning."

"Yeah, oaky." Chris rubbed his face with his hands trying to will away the exhaustion.

Archer watched in sympathy. "Get some sleep mate. You look like you need it. We can talk more in the morning is you want."

Chris nodded. "Thanks Ian."

"You're welcome," said Archer, smiling. He walked over to his own bed and began to undress.

Toad bent over and untied his boots and lazily pulled them off. He briefly thought about taking the rest of his clothes off, but decided he was too tired. He flopped back on his bed, dog tags jingling, and decided he didn't want to leave his bed ever again. He sighed heavily.

Archer's voice drifted over to him through the dark. "You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah," Chris groaned. "Just don't let me drink that much again."

Ian chuckled. "I'll try mate, I'll try."

With that assurance, Toad drifted off into the sweet blackness of sleep.

oOo

The next morning Chris woke up to the sound of Archer leaving their room, presumably to shower. Toad really didn't care, because he had a monster of a head ache to deal with first. He pressed his hands into his eyes, trying to get the war drums to stop pounding in his head. Somehow he always forgot about the hangover he was sure to get after drinking so much. Why didn't he learn? Chris didn't know and didn't care to think about it right now.

He blindly groped for the water he remembered Ian had left for him. He was able to grab it in a shaky hand without spilling it and pushed himself up just enough to drink it. He let the glass drop from his hand to the floor with a thud and laid back down, groaning. He rolled towards the wall onto his side, pulling blankets over his head. He wasn't sure but he felt like he might be sick. But he was too tired and in too much pain to pay attention to any nausea he felt, so he pushed it down.

How long he laid there dozing in and out, he didn't know, but eventually he heard someone enter their room. He could tell by the heavy footfalls that it was definitely Archer. And he could smell the heavenly aroma of food as Archer neared his bed.

"You alive, mate?" the sniper asked quietly.

Toad groaned and rolled over to face Ian, cracking his eyes open. The small amount of light coming in through the window above his bed was almost too much. So he pulled the covers over his head.

Archer chuckled quietly. "Barely, eh?"

Chris heard Ian sit down on the floor next to his bed and he pulled the covers down a little to peek out at Archer through blood shot eyes.

"You look like shite."

"Thanks," Chris croaked with a grimace.

"I brought you some more water if you want. And breakfast."

Toad slid off his bed to sit next to Archer on the floor and gratefully took the water, gulping it down. He then took the plate Ian offered him. There were a couple of eggs, a couple pieces of toast and a bunch of fruit.

"Fruit?" he asked around a mouthful of food.

Ian shrugged. "You need nutrients and I figured you wouldn't want vegetables for breakfast."

"Yeah that would be gross."

Chris almost regretted saying that because, holy hell, it hurt even to talk. It must have shown on his face because Archer didn't reply. They sat in silence as Toad ate.

"We don't get fresh fruit a lot, how'd you get ahold of it?" Chris asked curiously.

Ian shrugged awkwardly. "I went out and bought it this morning."

Chris's mouth fell open in shock. Archer had gone through all that trouble for him?

"It's not a big deal," said Archer quickly.

Toad wanted to object and say that, yeah, it was a big deal. But he realized that Archer was trying to salvage his pride, so he left it alone.

"Yeah… Well, uh, thanks man. It means a lot."

Ian gave him a lopsided smile, one of the few full smiles Chris had ever seen. Chris realized that Archer obviously didn't see him in the same light as he saw himself. He knew they were best friends, but Chris had always thought Archer saw him as over-confident and annoying. But after what he'd done last night and this morning it was obvious that Archer didn't see him that way. Or even if he did, he cared about Chris a great deal.

"Did you want to talk more about what happened?" Ian asked as Chris finished his breakfast.

Toad grimaced, feeling sick at the thought. "Not really."

"Okay."

Chris sighed and leaned his head back on his bed so he was staring at the ceiling. "What is there to say? You know how he feels about me. What good is talking going to do? It's not going to change anything."

"We don't have to talk about it," said Ian quietly. "But…" he hesitated. "If you want to, I'm here. You know that right?"

"Yeah I do," said Toad, smiling. He straightened up and looked at Archer, serious again. "I wanna learn to be like those Greeks. Not letting things around me bother me. Not just pushing it down inside, but really not letting it bother me."

Archer ran a hand through his reddish brown hair. "It isn't easy."

"Yeah," said Chris, grinning. "But I'm Chris Williams. I am awesome, so I can do anything."

Ian snorted and gently shoved Chris, amusement in his green eyes. "Of course, how could I forget?"

The spotter made a face. "Because right now I am hung over and not so awesome."

"Right." Archer paused, looking thoughtfully over at his side of the room. "I have a book on the stoics if you want to read it."

"Me? Read?"

The sniper smirked. "Or I could read it to you."

"Fuck no. Do I look like a kid to you? Wait, don't answer that."

"Wasn't going to say anything, mate."

"Riiiight."

Ian shook his head in disbelief. "You must not be too hung over if you're sassing me already."

Chris shrugged. "The food helped and yeah, I'll read that book."

"Good." Archer stood up. "You should shower. You stink."

Toad went to say something sarcastic and then stopped himself, realizing that Ian was right. "Okay, yeah. Good idea."

As Archer walked over to his desk and began rummaging around, Chris stood up unsteadily. Bright lights aside, a shower sounded really good right now.

"Hey Ian?"

"Hmmm?"

"You wanna hang out and play cards in the rec room later?" Chris hoped to God that the slight insecurity he was feeling didn't show on his face. But it must have because when Archer looked at him, his green eyes were soft.

"That sounds great, mate."

"Good. Cause you weren't gonna get out of it."

Ian laughed. "Wouldn't dream of it."

And Chris wondered why he hadn't just gone to Archer in the first place if this was how it would always turn out. Because with a best friend like Archer, who needed to forget things in a cabaret and pray for love in a lap dance?

**Author's Note:**

> I enjoyed writing this too much. Thanks for reading.


End file.
